ON THE TRACK OF ELI.
Owen tossed the trap aside.
Evidently he had been expecting some such remark from the other and was
not at all surprised at being called on for assistance.
"I think that if anything has happened to Eli we can lay it to that
ungrateful dog, Stackpole," he remarked, frowning a trifle, as if his
memories of the timber-cruiser were not of the most pleasant character
imaginable.
"You don't like that fellow one little bit, I can see; and do you know
the thought struck me when I saw him curl his lip on seeing you with us
that at some time in the past you two must have been at loggerheads,"
observed Cuthbert.
"Which is true, every word of it. If you had looked closer you might
have noticed a little notch in the fellow's left ear. I was the cause of
that, and it happened some years ago, when I was much smaller than I am
now, and less able to take care of myself. But I was born in the woods,
and brought up with a rifle in my hands, so that I learned early in life
to shoot straight."
"Yes," interrupted Cuthbert, "I saw that you were a dead shot when you
tried my pet Marlin and brought down that hawk on the wing. I thought I
had some little ability in that line myself, but when I saw you trim
that buccaneer of the air so easily as if you were not half trying, I
gave up thinking myself in it. But please go on, Owen."
"Where we lived was a lonely section. My father had offended some one
high in authority marrying my mother, and he felt this influence more or
less all his life; but I did not mean to speak about that just now, only
to explain how it was we chanced to be so far removed from other people.
"Once in a while some wandering timber-cruiser like Stackpole would drop
in on us, and you can understand that as a general thing they were
mighty welcome, for they brought us news of the outer world.
"But if there was one man I detested, it was Stackpole, and he had often
riled me as a kid, by his leering ways, and his sneaking method of
hanging around when my father was out looking after his traps.
"I don't know what put it into my head, but somehow I seemed to finally
believe the fellow had been actually sent up into the wilderness by some
one high in authority at the post just to annoy my father and bring him
to his knees, which nothing had been able to do in the past.
"So I came to follow Stackpole when he did not dream I was around, and
pretty soon I found that he was trying to steal my father's stock of
furs during his absence, having arranged it with a halfbreed Cree to
pull his chestnuts out of the fire, and avoid responsibility.
"I had been afraid that his evil eye had been turned upon my pretty
mother, so that, after all, it was something of a relief to find that he
only wanted to take the bundle of valuable furs that would mean a living
for us during the next summer; but I've never believed anything else
than that he was sent there by old Alexander Gregory to reduce us to a
state where my parents would have to knuckle down, swallow their Scotch
pride, and accept favors at his hands, something father had sworn he
would die before doing.
"Well, I caught the rascal in the act of carrying the furs off, though
he always swore that I wronged him, and that he had in reality rescued
them from a thief of a Cree who had snatched the lot; but I notched his
ear with a shot, and put another in his right leg--you remember Eli
noticed that he had a decided limp on that side.
"They had to nurse the old villain all through his spell, and he never
forgave me for the double dose I gave him, though pretending it was all
right, and that, thinking as I did, I had done the proper thing.
Stackpole kept shy of our place after that, but I knew he would never
forgive me, and if the time ever arrived when he could get even he would
take the chance gladly. That was why I kept an eye on him all the time
he was with us, and warned you to look out, for the fellow is really a
thief, and has a bad reputation all over the region of the
Saskatchewan."
"And you really think he may be the cause of Eli staying away? After we
treated him so well, too. The skunk has no gratitude in his make-up,
then, that's all I can say. Catch me giving him another cup of our
lovely Java; it's like casting pearls before swine," declared the other,
disgusted.
"Of course," continued Owen, "there is always a chance that Eli may have
gotten twisted in his bearings. Any fellow might do that under stress of
excitement, no matter what his knowledge of woodcraft may be. I've been
there myself, and as all my life was spent in the timber I ought to be
free from such a trouble if any one might. So, perhaps it would be wise,
before we try to sally out and look for signs of our comrade, to shoot
off a gun a few times, and see whether he makes any reply. What do you
say?
"Just what I was about to propose myself. Three shots is the usual
signal, but with Eli's shotgun we can only knock out two. Nevertheless,
here she goes."
So saying he blazed away with both barrels, allowing a margin of a few
seconds to occur between the shots.
Then both lads bent their ears and listened carefully.
The night breeze was sighing among the pines and hemlocks, but it
carried no answering sound to their waiting ears.
When several minutes had gone by Cuthbert thrust a couple more shells
into the barrels of the gun and once more let go.
Again silence alone repaid their anxious attention.
If the missing one heard those signal shots he was in no condition to
reply, and that would mean, of course, that he must be in trouble.
Cuthbert looked at his friend.
"It doesn't seem to be of any use. After that I can't doubt but what
something uncomfortable has happened to Eli. He's a jolly fellow, and I
think the world of him. If any harm came to pass I'd feel wretched, for
it was my foolish idea that brought him up here," he said
disconsolately.
"Oh, I wouldn't feel that way about it. A fellow like Eli must run a
certain amount of risk, no matter where he is. If he wasn't here he'd be
logging, and taking his life in his hand every hour, with trees falling
in the wrong direction, log jams occurring in the spring rise and the
lumber jacks risking death in the effort to free the king-pin that holds
the jam. Oh, no, Eli has no fault to find with the way you've treated
him; indeed, he's had a snap, and knows it. But we must be doing
something, if you feel too anxious to wait until morning."
"It must now be ten o'clock, and that would mean many hours. Can
anything be done in the night? How could we follow his trail without a
hound? What wouldn't I give to have a good dog just now, such as my old
Bunker down home in Virginia. You take charge, and order me around as
you see fit. I'm ready to do anything."
Owen smiled, and thought what a fine thing it was to have a chum built
along these lines; the conviction that Cuthbert would be just as anxious
if it had been he who was lost carried with it a thrill of pleasure he
had never known in all his life before.
"Why, of course we can follow his trail slowly by the aid of that
hunting jacklight of yours. Suppose you get it going, while I attend to
some other things. If we abandon the camp even for a while it might be
wise to hide the boats, especially yours; for that lovely creation would
tempt almost any wanderer to carry it off. And your stores would be very
acceptable to some of these chaps who live on roasted navy beans for
coffee and hard tack with their venison."
So saying the young Canadian busied himself.
In ten minutes he had thoroughly hidden all their possessions, and in
such a clever way it would never be suspected that such things could be
lying around loose in the bushes beyond.
Meanwhile Cuthbert had fastened the jack to his hat and lighted the
same.
On some occasions in the past he had shot deer by means of this same
little lantern, though its use is now frowned down on in many states,
since what appears to be a mean advantage is taken of the innocent deer
when they come down to drink at the lake or stream, and stare at the
strange glow upon the water, allowing the sportsman to push close enough
to make dead sure of his quarry.
Now it would not have been carried needlessly all this way into the
wilderness if it was destined to prove valuable in following the trail
of the missing Eli.
Although Cuthbert had not voiced his worst fear, he was thinking that
possibly poor Eli might be lying somewhere in the vast woods badly
injured; for there were various ways in which such a thing could come
about.
He knew nothing could have happened on account of the rifle, for his
faith in that marvel of the gunmaker's craft was unbounded; but Eli was
inclined to be a bit clumsy, and might have stumbled into some hole,
striking his head and rendering himself unconscious; or there was a
chance that he had wounded a stag which had thereupon charged vigorously
upon him, as wounded bucks are apt to do; so that Eli, not being
accustomed to working the mechanism of the repeating rifle, might have
been caught napping and tossed down.
Well, they were now off, and would know something about the matter ere
long, for the tracks of the young hunter were plainly marked, as seen in
the light of the jack.
Owen must have had considerable experience in this thing of following a
trail, for he picked it up in a wonderful fashion; that is, it seemed so
in the eyes of his companion, who was quite willing to keep at his side
and bring the illuminating qualities of the little lantern to bear.
Finally, thinking that it would be best that Owen had the jack upon his
hat, he insisted on turning it over to him, contenting himself from that
moment with falling in behind, carrying the shot gun in the hollow of
his left arm, and with finger upon a trigger.
They walked for an hour in this way, and never once did Owen seem to be
in doubt.
Such clever ability to follow tracks in the night time was an education
to Cuthbert, always ready to learn new things; and he watched the manner
in which it was done, wondering if he could ever in the course of years
possess the sagacity that seemed to come so naturally to his friend.
In and out among the great trees they wound their way, just as Eli must
have done when wandering along, watching for a sight of game ahead.
Now they came to where he had evidently struck some sign, for he bent
down as he advanced, Owen showing the other just how he knew this from
the marks; since three times had Eli dropped to his knee, only to rise
again and go on, eager to get still closer to the quarry.
Finally Owen paused and pointed.
"Here he fired--only one shot," he declared, and picked up the brass
jacket of a long cartridge that had been ejected from the repeater when
Eli worked the combination.
Cuthbert looked anxiously about.
"I don't see him lying anywhere around, that's one thing that pleases
me," he said, in a relieved tone.
"No, he rushed forward--see, here are his tracks, and yonder the remains
of the deer he shot. But Eli is not here. Something happened to him.
Give me five minutes and I'll tell you what it was," declared the woods
boy, soberly.